


Unlikely Heroes

by xLion_Heartx



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Character Death, Gen, Human!Charoth, Weird Mix Of TI Monsters And Magic And ATLA Bending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-10-29 23:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17817662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xLion_Heartx/pseuds/xLion_Heartx
Summary: The world wasn’t weird. There was magic and bending, all of it was a complicated biological mess not helped by the monsters and spirit folk filling the world.With the Ban rampaging dangerously through Freearch, people are becoming suspicious of each other, borders are closing and less people are able to travel as freely as they once were. It doesn’t help that the Avatar has been completely missing from the world for nineteen years.Unlikely as it may be, there are people capable of helping, they’re a little odd, it’s not like they know each other yet... but they’re important, whether they know it or want to believe it at all.





	1. Chapter 1

Wind. Gregor missed it. Of course, it never went away, not entirely, but he hadn’t felt it’s true power since he stopped fully utilising his bending; little assists in his attacks hadn’t really counted in… a while. 

Airbenders were few and far between these days, as far as Gregor was aware they weren’t completely extinct - he was still alive after all - but he wasn’t the only airbender left in the world. Just the last Outrider. 

He never truly became a master at airbending, never get the arrows his mother had that he envied. He knew enough to not lose himself in his own repression of his skills, enough to teach any beginner to a decent skill level, but he knew more earthbending katas than airbending ones. Maneuvering air like earth went against one another and it felt wrong whenever he did it, but, he justifies it by saying he has no choice.

Though, as mentioned earlier, he didn’t airbend much anyway, the Outriders had taught him not to, told him he was never going to truly become a master anyway so why train his minimal skills? Told him he had a bigger target in his back by doing it so why put himself in danger like that? It made sense, at the time, sometimes Gregor had doubts, but he pushed them down as fast as any other doubt he’d ever had, Outrider related or not.

Wind could rush through his hair and he’d ignore it, him and his element drawn to each other and he’d ignore it. When he indulged he’d have nightmares - not that those were infrequent, they just got worse - remembering his family, his farm, the nearby village and all the deaths, all the wind that couldn’t do anything against the masked earth and nonbenders, nor the monsters that followed. Why should it be nice to him when it wasn’t nice to his people? Why should he be allowed to use it when his people were incapacitated and unable to use it to defend themselves?

Gregor missed the wind. He really,  _ really  _ did. But the wind did nothing for him and he was alone now.

* * *

Markus had always been somewhat of a prodigy, fire had come naturally to him and no one was surprised when he eventually produced a flame tinted blue, almost purple.

His school, full of firebenders, was a mix of good and bad. He had mixed feelings surrounding both the students and the teachers, but in the years to follow he realised whether he’d gone to that school or not he would have become his own special firebender either way.

Being a tiefling, the world expected him to be a firebender anyway, most tieflings were, it was hereditary, in their blood. If you went to any firebending school you’d find at least one tiefling professor, so, while his success was impressive, it wasn’t necessarily as surprising as a human accomplishing such a feat.

Being the creature he was, he not only had firebending in his side, but his imps as well; magic in the world was different to bending. Bending was in people’s blood, you could be taught but most of the skill came from the person themselves, not everyone who learned for years could be perfect or have as much power as other people. Magic depended on the species: tieflings had a connection to the Spirit world (much like airbenders and the elusive avatar) but only so much to call upon minor help, Markus’ came in the form of his imps. Humans, those both with and without bending, could be taught certain skills, alchemy was popular and monster identification/wrangling the second most popular; most people in the world were happy with what they had, only a few, those not happy with their lack of bending or those not happy with  _ just  _ their bending who had no skill to wield another weapon.

Either way, well, Markus liked to surround himself with people, ordinary and magical, otherwise he’d be by himself. He’d be alone with only his purple fire and his gibbering imps.

* * *

Ashe has grown up knowing she had her whole life planned out for her. Princess of Meathe, what a shitty life that was.

Meathe was so cut off from the world it hardly survived, at least from everything she saw. Sure they didn’t need normal healthcare, all the waterbenders were healers anyway but that didn’t help a lot of the pregnant women. It didn’t help her mother.

Ashe herself was only professionally trained in healing, she told herself she wouldn’t let anybody close to her die while she was there to save them and she became one of the best healers amongst her people. The one thing her father was proud of her for. She’d never tell him she spent a lot her days watching the combat training to mimic later that night on her balcony.

Her home was a mix of forest and ice, mostly ice, few trees survived the cold dome anymore, but the ones that did were her favourite place to hide. With her home so blocked from the world there was so much security, to both keep the masked bandits out and keep her people in, that included her. She’d tried to leave before, once when she was of age to be married off and again before her father’s first attempt at wedding her off to a young waterbending soldier. 

He gave up marrying her off for a while after that, the soldier died in the icy waters during a scouting trip a week later. When she was twenty, another wedding was planned, this time she was betrothed to the prince of another Water Tribe across the world somewhere, a boy she’d never even met before. When he came to visit for the first time he’d fallen sick and claimed her a witch, a curse to her people and other Water Tribes, a disgrace of a princess; she didn’t think hearing that would hurt as much as it had, considering she didn’t even like being a princess, but it did hurt. Her father didn’t try to marry her off again after that but she wasn’t sure how long that would last.

So Ashe was trapped, stuck in her own home, hiding away in her room like some emotional teenager. She still trained at night, but other than that, she became the princess that hid from her people, the princess that did nothing to help her tribe. She was by herself and she wasn’t even sure how to fix that for herself.


	2. Chapter 2

Meadshire was pretty ugly, probably one of the ugliest Earth Kingdom towns Markus had ever had the displeasure of bearing witness to, but he was getting paid for this so he couldn’t really complain. Well, he could, but quietly, and away from the prying ears of any of Alaran’s government. They were sensitive people.

Why the people of Alaran - or Meadshire for that matter - liked the garish colours and dilapidated buildings he’d never know nor truly understand, but Markus knew they hurt his eyes and as soon as he left he probably wouldn’t come back again… unless, of course, he was going to be paid again. 

Walking the streets he knew he stuck out, most of the residents wore the greens and golds of the Earth Kingdom, most of the travelling visitors were also either Earth Kingdom or Fire Nation and that only added a layer of minute reds amongst the sea of green. With Markus trundling along in his black clothes - clearly showing his neutrality/lack of specific alignment - and his obvious tiefling features, he got a few stares.

He found his building pretty quickly, the biggest of the minimal actually in the village and probably -  ~~ hopefully ~~ \- the most structurally sound if the second story walkway he could see had anything to say about it. He made his way over to it, keeping his strides long but his posture straight and his gaze set on the neutral - both in clothing and in expression - man leaning against the side of the building.

“You must be Markus,” he said when Markus approached, the man’s arms were folded, eyes half lidded like he hadn’t slept in days and tone one of boredom. Much like Markus, the man wore the blacks and whites of the neutral islands, though he was certainly built like an earthbender and more than likely from Alaran: relatively wide build and square hands good for maneuvering rock and earth.

“That I am,” Markus responded, a little more flourish in both his voice and his movements. He smiled at the man, hands on his hips as his tail swished beneath his cloak, “and you must be Thog.”

He got a hum in response and he held back a grimace as Thog’s eyes seemed locked onto his tail.

“Didn’t expect one of you. A neutral one at that.” Again, Markus tried not to fall out of his confident stance. “Aren’t you guys usually holed up in Fire Nation territory?”

Markus shrugged, grinning, “I’m one of a kind my dear colleague. Now, would you mind elaborating on this job I’ve been hired for?”

Thog pushed off the building, waving for him to follow as they started on the path to the back of the building. “Yeah, I don’t suppose my… superiors would have told you everything, huh. Basically we’ve been given a tip that some Ban members are planning on trying to infiltrate Alaran through our port.”

Markus raised an eyebrow, mouth dropping into a frown, “don’t the Ban already have a settlement on Alaran? Why wouldn’t they use the docks over there?”

“Surprisingly,” Thog sighed, “the Alarani are actually doing something with their cowardly lives and making the Emperor try and kick them out, take back our land and all that crap, so any and all ships spotted coming into that dock have been stopped.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “obviously those little shits are going to kill the people they’re controlling if we actively go after them in any other way, but if we stop the incoming Ban then they’re less likely to completely take over the country.”

Markus didn’t respond immediately, following Thog into the back room of the big building, a meeting room of sorts. A map of Freearch was pinned to the wall opposite the door, a round, wooden table sat in the middle of the room, a number of (somewhat weak-looking) chairs were placed around it and in the corner of the room were two chests. Thog went over to one of them, opening it up and rifling through the mess of scrolls inside; Markus looked at the map, sets of pins were pressed into it, some circling particular areas of each island - the areas the Ban had taken over and the original island they used to reside on (whether they still did, Markus was unsure).

“Taking over the country  _ would  _ be less than ideal,” he finally said, tapping his index finger on his chin, “the more they take of world the less likely it is the rest of us will win this… war? I guess that’s what we’ve been calling it.”

Thog shrugged again, grunting and pulling out a scrappy looking scroll with the insignia of Onorhant splayed across the wooden rod the page was wrapped around. He went over to the main table, rolling the end of the scroll to the side Markus was on, the blond would be lying if he said he was shocked at the rushed handwriting.

“From what we understand, there is an individual, maybe more, within the ranks of the Ban on both their home island and their biggest settlement in Onorhant,” Thog explained, pointing out a few sentences within the poorly written letter. Clearly the writer of it had no time or was doing it in secret, “we don’t know who they are but they clearly know us and,” he paused to mutter something under his breath, “I believe they are someone higher up within Ban rankings.”

Markus nodded, inspecting the letter a few times and noticing several mud - or blood - stains on the page, as well as the ink of whatever pen the writer was using having leaked several times. Definitely a rushed letter. 

“It would make sense.” He tried not to smile at Thog  _ almost  _ perking up from the recognition. “High ranking members are more likely to be privy to this information. Right now I don’t think we should worry about our little mole, what are we doing about these infiltrators coming in?”

Thog rolled the scroll up, mumbling a simple  _ right  _ and dropping the scroll in a satchel he then threw over his shoulder. Without a word, Thog left the building, Markus trotted after him without needing to be told. They made their way to the dock, any small crowds clearing the way when the two neutrals marched through.

The first thing Markus saw at the dock was a legion of Alarani soldiers, all clad in their golden-green armour and accompanied by a prim woman, dressed in a green tunic dress with golden accents and glasses almost falling off her nose; the soldiers were in their dozens, the woman (the leader Markus assumed) probably wanting as many there to make up for their  ~~ obvious ~~ lack of actual skill.

“Oh good, you brought the  _ help _ ,” the woman almost sneered, looking up and down at Markus’ clothing and subtly rolling her eyes, “Mr Velafi, you may call me Karen, I appreciate your willingness to assist us in this…  _ trying time _ .”

Markus’ eyes flicked the Thog for a second before he plastered on a smile and offered a flourished bow, his tail flicking behind him and a small spark of blue flame dancing across his fingertips; he smiled at the few  _ ooo _ ’s emitted by the soldiers. Karen looked unimpressed when he made eye contact with her again, exhaling sharply from her one and turning back to face the sea, a growing mass in the distance a clear sign of a ship.

“We’re arresting everyone on the incoming ship, possibly the next if we don’t find any Ban on this one. I don’t want any complaints, all of them will be taken for questioning and you,  _ Markus Velafi _ , will be both our extra help and our interrogator,” she turned back to him and he flinched at the dark look in her eye, “after all, most can’t say no to a firebender, can they?”

Oh. So he was here for fear, of course he was. Firebenders were too often used like this by other Nations with  _ any _ war that wasn’t their armies against another; it seemed to be no different with the Ban, why Markus thought it would be he didn’t know, he supposed it was probably just hope, though that made one fickle these days.

“No…” he muttered, “of course they can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter could have been longer but I kind of wanted to switch perspectives so sos if you wanted something longer. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, could it have also been better? Probably.


	3. Chapter 3

Gregor looked down at the ocean, arms over the railing of the ship to watch the waves pass by. They’d been sailing for a day or two at this point, he wasn’t entirely sure, time had been blurring together since he hadn’t truly slept from when they set off. The other passengers were both curious and ordinary: some citizens escaping the growing threat of the Ban, others, merchants looking for better business with the, stereotypically gullible, Alarani. Then there were a few people that had him on edge, he wasn’t sure why, and he didn’t really have any reason to be put off by them, but they gave off a bad aura and he was worried about all of the ordinary citizens on board.

His glaive rested heavily against his back, the metal of the blade feeling cool through his dark red trousers. The sleeves of his red tunic fell loosely around his arms and he’d knotted the belt around his waist several times to keep the garment on; to most outsiders he hoped he looked like a member of the Fire Nation - obviously not pure blood but at least coming off as a child of mixed heritage with his tanner skin and darker eyes. He blended in more like that.

The land, Meadshire, looked mostly green from a distance, a weird shade of green that glowed uncomfortably. Gregor never knew that the Alarani myths were true, they really  _ were  _ bad with colours. Either way, it certainly looked Earth Kingdom, an island not as tainted by the Ban as many others were; that was good. It meant it was at least somewhat safe.

A pattering at his side made Gregor look down, a boy, maybe ten or eleven, grinned up at him with stars in his eyes. Fire Nation, that’s the first thing that jumped out, pale skin and golden eyes, fluffy dark hair accompanied by red and yellow clothes.

“Hi mister,” the kid smiled, Gregor couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his mouth either, “your thingie is super cool, what is it?”

He perked up, pulling his glaive from his back and setting down on the deck of the ship, “ _ this _ ,” He gleamed, “is a glaive! One of the best polearms you can get.”

The boy looked up and down the blade with so much curiosity Gregor wondered if his father or any other relative was a soldier of some sort. He caught eyes with a woman across the boat she resembled the boy greatly with her golden eyes and soft look in their direction; she offered him a warm smile before he continued talking to the boy about weapons and something in his heart skipped, not in any kind of romantic sense, but part of him was dragged back to when he was a kid.

He shook the thought off when someone hollered from an upper deck of the ship. One of the Captain’s right hands from what Gregor remembered of the introductions when they boarded. He and the boy stood, his glaive going back at his back and his attention going to the much closer land of Meadshire.

“Soon to be docking! Prepare to arrive in Meadshire!”

The next few moments passed like wildfire. The second the ship bounced against the land of Meadshire, legions of Earth Kingdom soldiers charged on, tackling and grabbing at everyone on board. He didn’t know what was happening but he knew it was better to let himself be grabbed than fight like many of the others were, he became somewhat on edge when his glaive was torn away from him and his arms were twisted uncomfortably behind his back. The boy screamed from beside him, more than a few soldiers attempting to get him to settle down and from across the ship Gregor saw the woman, the kid’s mother, fighting against almost twelve soldiers and calling out to the boy. Something in Gregor told him to keep the child safe.

“Hey!” He tried, wincing away from his current holder as they tugged on his arms and tried to get him to move. The boy didn’t stop struggling. “Charoth!”

The boy stopped struggling, looking at Gregor with wide, fearful eyes and whimpers that tore at his heart. The soldier behind Gregor let go of him for a second to motion for the colleagues around Charoth to move; he felt his hands suddenly become stuck together by something heavy, rock, and while Charoth stuck to his side, his hands were bound by rock too. The soldier tugged them off together, where Charoth’s mother was neither of them knew.

He kept at least one of his bound hands on Charoth’s shoulder as they were marched onto the dock and his eyes found the man with his glaive immediately, a stocky man in neutral clothes looking about as uncomfortable with what was happening as Gregor thought someone could be. He made eye contact with the other neutral man beside the other for a second then, a blonde tiefling whose mouth was twisted downwards as he watched all the passengers marched wherever they were going.

Whatever was happening Gregor knew they were getting interrogated, it happened with the Outriders and it was happening again now. Fire Benders used for obtaining information. He could only hope his nightmares wouldn’t come to life before his eyes once again and he could hold out long enough to get Charoth back to his mother.

He wasn’t going to let Charoth end up like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not Charoth wasn’t actually supposed to end up like this but he’s here now and I’m okay with it lmao


	4. Chapter 4

Thog hated this. Hated Alaran, hated working for Karen, hated this entire situation currently playing out before him. There were _kids_ on that damn ship, not two minutes before a scrappy fifteen-year-old Water Tribe boy was shoved off with a Fire Nation woman he’d seen two other Fire Nation kids marching off calm as ever, one either seventeen or eighteen and the other not even a teenager yet.

The glaive in his gasp didn’t feel right in his hands, the handle clearly worn to fit someone else’s palm and slim fingers. He felt better in knowing that he had it over Karen, and that Markus looked just as disgruntled over the manhandling of these people as he was.

Normally he wouldn’t give a shit, but this felt so forced, and unethical even if there was a _chance_ some of the Ban could be on board. This was scaring people, both the passengers and the civilians watching the ordeal and the marching people, even when these travellers got released they’d be questioned by Meadshire’s occupants if not completely avoided which wouldn’t be good for the village businesses at all.

Markus nudged his shoulder and he looked over from his lost gaze down the road to the jail, Karen was scribbling something down on a clipboard before handing it off to another soldier and marching past himself and Markus towards the most secure building in the village (which wasn’t exactly saying much considering it was hardly used and he was pretty sure half the cell bars were rusted). Either way, he and Markus followed and she spoke to them without looking back at them.

“We’ve identified the possible threats based on what we know of their appearances, what we found in their belongings, and their general reactions to their arrest. We’ll be having you, Mr Velafi, have a… conversation with the ones we believe most dangerous and a number of my men will attempt to get information from the weaker willed individuals.”

Markus coughed, “and - ah - what of the other civilians?”

Karen waved them off and Thog bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping at her. He couldn’t lose this job, not for a few strangers _or_ his moral compass.

“We’ll let them go once they’re _aware_ of the consequences should they mention this… mishap to anyone unaware of it.”

Markus spluttered and he almost felt bad for the guy.obviously the Alarani weren’t really open about their ethical behaviour but, granted Thog had never seen Karen go _this_ far for something, it was somewhat known that not only were his people generally dense, but those that weren’t were mostly money hungry bastards. He wasn’t excluding himself from that category either.

Thog caught the door on their way into the jail, literally caught it, it nearly fell off its hinges and he had to set it back into place before the guard at the entrance table could glare a hole through his bag, the glaive, and then himself. He watched Markus look around for a moment, the tail the man had swishing behind him as he scrutinised the obviously rotting planks of wood all over the place, Thog had never seen someone so concerned over an Alarani building before, it was kind of funny.

There was a ruckus running through to the back of the building where all the cells were, two corridors cut off from each other by a set of three interrogation rooms that hadn’t been used for as long as he’d worked for Karen. It was very likely a lot of the noise was not just people’s ~~justified~~ anger at being wrongfully locked up, but also any separated families checking on each other, the glaive in his hand felt even heavier then, only one person had a weapon on them so openly and he needed to find out who it was; he didn’t care if Karen thought they were Ban or not, no Ban was stupid or earnest enough to show off such an obvious sign that they were one.

Karen picked up the clipboard on the table by the guard (who was still staring at him might he add) and nodded to herself before finally turning to them.

“Mr Velafi, from our understanding there is only one bender amongst this small group of Ban, an earthbender of course, so we will be having you talk to him while myself and Geoffrey here will talk with the remaining two we believe the leaders. Thog, your job is to watch the rest of the imprisoned in case we missed a Ban or two.”

She handed him the clipboard and he fumbled for a second with all the things he was already holding onto to take it from her, he grunted his understanding and watched her brush her glasses up her nose before sauntering down the corridor to the interrogation rooms and standing in front of one of the doors. Markus threw him an apologetic look he tried to ignore before he too moved towards the rooms and was pointed to the left-most one.

Geoffrey looked at him as he stood, eyes flicking to the glaive before he pointed down to the cells with his thumb, “keep an eye on the mixed kid with the Fire Nation boy, he had the glaive and gave himself up pretty quickly. I don’t trust him.”

Thog held in his retort (something along the lines of _of_ _course_ _you_ _don’t_ but he kind of wanted it to be wittier than that) and watched the soldier march down to the final room, golden-green armour clinking the whole way down. Thog didn’t relax until all three sets of eyes were off him, his tensed shoulders dropping and his bag with the Ban letter inside slumping down his arm; he dropped the clipboard back on the desk with a small clatter and shifted his bag onto his other shoulder before dragging himself and the glaive down to the cells.

The noise had quieted somewhat significantly, probably from the noticeable presences of Karen and Markus, it only piped up again when they saw Thog by himself. They were still much quieter than they had been before, most mumbling to their cell mates and whatnot rather than people calling out for each other. He tried to avoid looking at most of them walking down the left side and peeking around the corner to the last two hidden cells that were empty (probably having held the Ban members or something) and doing the same motion for the right side but pausing at the corner to listen to the two voices talking.

“I defeated a tornado once.”

“ _What_!? No way! How did you do it Mister, how!?”

“I would demonstrate with my glaive but one of the mean people has it so I’m just gonna use this cell bar, I can put it back after they won’t notice.”

Oh, so this was the glaive boy, the other voice must have been the Fire Nati- **what** did that kid say he was doing?! Thog skidded around the corner and his mouth slacked open, the tan boy he’d seen leaving the dock stood in the middle of his cell with one of the rusted bars in his hands, holding it like he would a glaive as best he could. It left a big gap in the entrance of the cell and either could have bolted at any moment but the golden eyed child was sat against one of the walls watching the other red clad boy with wide eyes.

They both looked at him when he turned the corner. The younger of the two yelped, jolting up and sprinting to hide behind the other’s taller form. The older, while looking mildly annoyed, simply put the bar back without any questions and folded his arms with a small pout, looking down at one of the minuscule beds but Thog saw the way his eyes kept flicking to his glaive every second.

“I - uh - haven’t used it or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. Also I don’t really appreciate being lumped in with my _boss_ of all people.”

A minor chirp of a giggle came from the younger one before he hid behind - what? A brother? An uncle? - and went silent again. The older seemed at a minor loss for words, eyebrows moving as he thought though his eyes still seemed to glean over the glaive to check for any blemishes not already on it when Thog was given it.

“If you behave I can give it back to you before you leave.”

He pouted again, “why can’t you give it to me now?”

Thog spluttered for a second, “uh, because I could lose my job? Also I would technically be handing it to a criminal since you are behind bars.”

“Oh, well don’t break it.”

Well that was… weirdly easy. Thog hated to admit it but Geoffrey was mildly in the right of being suspicious of him. The kid was a little weird, maybe not Ban levels of weird, but he abided by rules a hell of a lot quicker than anyone Thog ever knew, so there was at least something drilled into him. Thog doubted he’d ever find out though.

A crash and a clatter caught his ears first, the screaming next and he realised in an instant that Markus got _the_ _wrong_ _guy_. Whichever Ban member really as the bender had made someone switch places with them or something and he was out of the crappy restraints he was probably given. A mass of rock slammed into the wall next to Thog and he jumped forward on instinct, glaive clattering in front of him and bag dropping next to him as he spun and threw his hand upwards, a mass of rock forming a wall to the main corridor and cutting off himself and the two kids from the rest of the building. Now they just had to get out.


	5. Chapter 5

Markus felt bad about this whole situation. Not really about having to get information from Ban because most didn’t really deserve his sympathy, but all the civilians locked up, Thog out there with so much stuff shoved onto him with little regard,  _ that’s  _ what he felt bad about. He looked at the man in front of him, his tanned hands and feet were bound in metal, the bear-like mask they’d found in his luggage sat on the table between the both of them, the mask that presumably belonged to the leader and singular bender of the group of Ban in Alarani custody. 

“So, you’re trying to get to your little settlement at the edge of the country, huh?” He asked, voice firm and stance tall, his arms folded and his eyebrow raised, “wanna tell me why that is?”

The man chuckled, leaning back in his chair (which squeaked dangerously and  _ almost  _ made Markus lose his composure out of pure concern for Alarani craftsmanship) and wriggling his metal-bound arms. There was a glint in his eye that made Markus nervous, something didn’t feel right about this whole process anyway but the smug look on this guy’s face was more than mildly concerning.

“Maybe cause we wanna hang with our people?” His voice was too confident for a guy in custody, ink black eyes staring straight at Markus’ own blue ones, “we’re people too ya know.”

Markus squinted, snapping his fingers and pulling an imp from the spirit realm. He didn’t want to admit that he relished in the minor strike of fear that crossed the man’s face as Impangeline growled and snapped at him from the table, but he absolutely  _ loved it _ . 

“You may be  _ people _ , but no morally sane person would want war with their own kind,” he almost growled, taking everything in him to only light a small flame on the end of his finger while also keeping a light grasp on Impangeline’s tail, “Why Alaran of all places to start taking over? Onhorant is much closer to your actual home and there are plenty of islands close by to start your little infestation. So  _ why  _ Alaran?”

The metal dragged against the chair as the man started laughing, loudly and unnervingly to the point even Impangeline halted in her growling. The man smirked at him when his little fit was over and sneered with almost pointed teeth, “cause the Alarani are idiots.”

From the room next to him, the one Geoffrey had entered, there was a crash, a yell, and several more crashes before Markus was thrown into the far wall as the one connecting the other interrogation room was torn down.  _ They tricked them _ . They knew what was going to happen and planned for it, that’s all he managed to think in his sudden dazed state. He came to relatively quickly, Impangeline tugging at his cape and jabbering in his ear until he groaned and rolled onto his front to stand up.

Looking across through the rooms (since the two walls were torn down) he could see Geoffrey and Karen both in bad states, the general with shards of rock piercing his armour and the woman a bad head wound. He sucked in a breath snapping his fingers to send Impangeline back to her safety and climbing through the wall to the main cells. The area was in desolation, half of the building having fallen down from the holes in the cells the other Ban members were freed from, the remaining innocents (those who hadn’t run) were in a huddle together, many of the adults keeping children’s eyes away from the crushed bodies of those who shared cells with the Ban - including a Fire Nation woman, two Earth Kingdom men, and a Water Tribe elder.

“Are any of you waterbenders healers?” He asked frantically, watching the remaining innocents looking between each other.  _ Please, by the gods let them not be _

“I am,” someone piped up, the fifteen year old who’d been pulled from the ship with the dead Fire Nation woman, “I’m learning, but I know enough to keep someone alive before someone more experienced comes.”

He nodded to the boy, pulling him from the reluctant crowd and directing him to both Geoffrey and Karen. He muttered a few words of encouragement, told him he’d run back with a better healer once he’d caught those Ban members and turned to leave the jail.

“The other neutral man went after them,” a water tribe woman said, pushing to the front to join the boy with his employers, “he took the mixed boy and the son of the Fire Nation woman… he refused to be left here, so if you find them make sure that boy doesn’t get himself killed for the sake of his mother.”

Markus nodded, “will do, ma’am.”

He ran from the building, cape billowing behind him as he sprinted past more injured people and followed footsteps pushed into the mud by three running people. They didn’t lead to the docks, but further into Meadshire’s neon forest and the clay cave that served as a passageway from the villages small island to mainland of Alaran; the members were heading to their settlement, and they’d hurt as many people as necessary to get there.

There was a snap of lightning and more crashes of rock and Markus almost tripped in his shock, a lightningbender, he could have laughed they were rarer than his blue flame was. The cave was somewhat dark, barely lit by the torches lining the walls and he had to create a large, blue flame in his hand to stop himself from running into anything. 

“Kid if you don’t calm down I’m gonna have to force you into a damn timeout or something!” He heard Thog yell, his voice channeled through the tunnel, followed by more grunts and crashes of rock, “you are  _ not helping _ !”

Markus skidded into the open cavern, throwing his flame in the direction of a - now masked in a crow mask - Ban member. The ball hit its mark, the Ban member screaming out and falling away from his teammates to try and pat out the fire spreading on his green clothes. Thog (whose bag was discarded by the mouth of the tunnel), the young Fire Nation boy (with tear streaked cheeks that made Markus’ heart lurch) and the older, mixed teen (now with the glaive Thog was given) all turned to look at him for split second before the bear masked Ban ripped a chunk of rock at the wall and swung it in the direction of Thog. Much to Markus’ surprise, Thog immediately spun back and skidded his left foot forward while his hands shot upwards in a scooping motion, a wall of rock shooting up and crumbling around him as the chunk slammed into it.

“You  _ are  _ an earthbender!” Markus exclaimed, somewhat chipper as he skidded into the battle beside the neutral man, “this a capture or a kill mission?”

Thog grunted, shaking out his arms and looking back at the two kids glaring at the Ban members. “Honestly? At this point I don’t really give a shit. Legally we should capture them but the kid’s gonna fucking electrocute half of them to death anyway so I doubt them dying would cause that many problems.”

Markus spluttered, “the  _ child  _ is the lightningbender?!”

There was a battle cry and one of the Ban members, one in a walrus mask, sprinted forward in the direction of the mixed teenager. Markus spun, ready to throw a flame but ended up locked in combat with the crow masked Ban he’d set alight when he entered the cavern. The teenager seemed prepared, catching the lion Ban’s dagger with the much bigger flat of his blade and throwing him back with much more force than Markus would expect from someone so small. The one female Ban, donned in a lion mask and holding her arm with burns running down it from an electric shock, barked a roar and sprinted in the direction of the child.

While Markus had a good idea that the young boy was a rare little lightningbender, watching him act out on his skills while also locked in a fight of sickles and flame himself was  _ something _ , both incredible and terrifying and, well, shocking for lack of a better word. He watched the boy shoot both his arms upwards, hands positioned in such a way a child would if they were pretending to have a gun, a crackle sounded, the cave lighting up blue as the rare element wrapped around his arms. In one sweeping motion, with control even Markus aspired to have, he dragged his left arm down his right and out towards the oncoming attacker, the lightning concentrated through his body and out in a sharp strike to the woman’s heart; he watched her get thrown back, landing in a heap on the floor and leaving Markus very doubtful of her survival.

“That’s for my mother,” the boy spat through gritted teeth, slumping back against the wall of the cavern and curling into a ball on the floor, his energy spent.

Markus managed to push a flame through crow-mask’s defensive strikes, further burning him and giving him a chance to push past him to stand in front of the kid, not only was he protecting the innocent boy but now his back was to the wall and there was no way any of them could sneak up on him. He watched the mixed boy slice at his opponent, cutting the man’s hand and spinning his glaive with ease. How were these kids so much more skilled than he was? He wasn’t really jealous by any means but definitely the most surprised he had been in a while. 

Crow threw one of his sickles then, launching it in a motion similar to if one threw a frisbee, Markus was never trained in combat against physical weapons, he would be the first to admit his weakness to them, so he wasn’t sure how to counteract the blade spinning rapidly in his direction until he simply threw his arms up surrounded by flame to try and minimise the damage. There was a  _ clink  _ and he looked at the space in front of him to see the flat of the glaive blocking the sickles path, the teen smiled at him and Markus saw walrus-mask writhing on the floor bleeding from a cut to his leg - so the teen didn’t kill him, but certainly incapacitated him for… a while. Crow practically squawked, but he didn't get two feet before a chunk of rock slammed into the side of his head and he slumped to the floor probably with some kind of brain damage, but alive. Markus couldn’t say the same for bear-mask who Thog had clearly dealt with via a much deadlier head injury. So two of four were dead.

Now to head back to Meadshire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry I can’t write fight scenes that well yet, I’m still learning :3
> 
> But hey, the first two kills via the main characters were committed by Thog and an eleven year old ^^’


	6. Chapter 6

Gregor leaned his head back against the wall of the town hall, sitting out on the second story walkway watching the afternoon sun slowly disappear over the horizon with Charoth nuzzled into his side sleeping away his exhaustion. Thog and the Tiefling - whose name was apparently Markus - talked with the two injured leaders inside, he could hear their voices though he expected by their hushed voices they didn’t want him to. 

He closed his eyes for a second, face contorting into a grimace as a breeze forced itself across his face and through his hair, whispers carried by the the wind tickled his ears and he snapped his eyes open before they could get any further. Charoth shifted at his side and he paused before the boy settled again, Gregor then went to pressing his ear against the wall to try and get a better listen in on the conversation he wasn’t privy to.

“You’re the one that got us into this situation, Thog,” he heard the woman say. Despite her voice being completely monotone, Gregor had the unsettling feeling she was incredibly angry, “and as your  _ employer _ , you have no power to refuse your new assignment.”

“But they  _ just  _ got here,” Markus interrupted her, “the child’s mother just died for gods sake and we don’t know anything about the other boy. For all we know there could be family waiting for them here!”

Gregor almost rolled his eyes, holding in a scoff and running his fingers across the flat of his blade that sat on the walkway next to him.

Even though he couldn’t see her, he could imagine the woman  _ actually  _ rolling her eyes, “this is for the sake of the whole country. I don’t want to have to get an order from the Emporer to deport them so it’s much easier, and  _ far  _ less paperwork to have yourself and Mr Velafi willingly take them to the Shrouded Isles and get them sorted from there.”

“The Shrouded Isles?” Thog asked, probably messing with the cuffs of his shirt or something, “you and I both know that place has been radio silent for, what? A year and a half? How do we know anybody’s even left?”

Gregor heard the guard from the jail grumble, “who cares? Take the brats away so we don’t have to deal with them anymore. For the sake of the people we need them out, one is a literal lightning rod and the other he-“

“He’s what?” Thog almost barked, “cause if you say some bullshit about his mixed heritage I will do what that Ban did but worse. I killed him. I can kill you too.”

“That’s enough,” Karen said, a file slamming down on the table, the noise even made Gregor flinch, “I’m  _ also  _ asking you to go to the Shrouded Isles to investigate  _ that  _ situation. We never had a valid excuse before, but now you can check it out  _ and  _ deal with the problems the children have brought.”

He frowned, he didn’t want to be on a boat again. Boats forced him to think too much, gave him too many opportunities to drift off into his nightmares. Not only that, but, as much as he liked Charoth, Gregor wasn’t sure he was capable of taking care of him,  _ especially  _ on a possibly recluse, people hating, or empty island. 

He didn’t want to think about all of the issues his appearance could bring, the Alarani guard was already an example of the dislike that was thrown in his direction just because he  _ looked  _ like a Fire Nation-maybe-Earth Kingdom kid. He knew it would happen should he pick Fire Nation clothing, but it was the furthest choice away from his memories. He was somewhat used to hate by the time he picked the fiery colours because he  _ was  _ a child of mixed heritage, his mother was… well… who she was, his father was a Neutral Islands waterbender, and they lived in an Earth Kingdom village on a rock farm,  _ then  _ there was the Outriders but they were a whole different bag of complicated. Fire Nation red was the only colour he didn’t associate to anything  _ other  _ than his time with the Outriders, it was his safest option. And now he was thinking too much.  _ Thanks stupid guard _ .

The door towards the end of the walkway took the scowl off his face, instead making him plaster a small smile on, one that became slightly more genuine at the sight of Thog and Markus. The pair walked over, Markus just as put off by the hazard that was this walkway as he was when they’d left him and Charoth out here an hour before. Aside from the unease at the creaking wood, they both looked mildly fed up, if not completely uncomfortable (Gregor didn’t know why, it’s not like they knew him  _ or  _ Charoth enough to really feel guilty about something as simple as shrugging them off onto other people), but Thog managed to look less like he’d eaten something sour in comparison to Markus who kept trying to look away from everyone and whose tail was flicking behind him and shifting his cape more than the wind ever could. Thog spoke up after too long an awkward silence.

“Okay, this is a one time thing, mostly because I have no idea how to deal with this situation right now, but you’re all staying at my house tonight and we can properly talk about this shit.”

Markus’ response was shut down before he could get more than a sound out, and Gregor didn’t say anything, only tilted his head and nodded in understanding, hand wrapping around the handle of his glaive and shifting to hopefully get Charoth up enough to carry him. Thog stepped forward,  slightly begrudgingly, handing Markus his bag, and freed Gregor from Charoth’s burrowing with careful movements and managed to get the kid onto his own back without so much as waking him up.

“Oh wow,” Markus muttered, helping Gregor to stand and watching Thog shift Charoth on his back slightly before wandering along the walkway, “I didn’t expect you to be good with kids, Thog.”

There was no retort bar a muted glare and Gregor was the last to follow after them, eyes catching a bright purple coat and hearing some strange giggling down below but seeing nothing when he’d spun to see what it was. The weight of his glaive felt familiar on his back and he gripped it slightly when the giggling drifted through his ears again when he was following Markus down a set of stairs off the walkway. 

The moon cast quiet light over them as they walked through the much quieter streets of Meadshire, he could see the remains of the jail through the gaps in the houses and he looked back at Charoth. While they were gone guards had ‘dealt’ with the people crushed by the building, sending them in ships back to their homelands where they could be put to rest appropriately - which wasn’t a bad idea but now Charoth was all alone and his home family would wonder if he was dead too - while the survivors were sent to the inn or set free to go wherever they came to Meadshire for. Shaking his head, he kicks at the dirt, head shooting up and skidding to a stop to turn around as the giggling cane back, this time louder and closer.

A man stood there, almost glowing in the moonlight, dressed in a purple hooded coat with sleeves to his elbows and a mask covering the top portion of his face. His laugh was stabbing, varying from a high pitched giggle to an even higher pitched cackle, and beside him a muscled rat-like creature, glowing similarly, made a honking noise in Gregor’s direction. Gregor turned to look at the rest of his group but they were still walking forward as if the little creature  _ hadn’t  _ just made the noise of a foghorn along the silent road. 

“I think you’ll find they’re not privy to my appearance, young man,” the man screeched, hand moving outwards with a blueish echo following him, “you are just one person after all, the barrier between words isn’t weak enough for my presence to affect anyone but yourself. I would have quite liked to speak with your tiefling friend but his link to the spirit realm is limited to those… annoying little gibbering creatures.”

Gregor took several steps back. No. No! This was the part of him he was ignoring! Normal people, normal  _ not airbenders  _ didn’t go around fraternising with those of the spirit realm!

“Wha-Wh-Why are you talking to me?” He really wanted to ignore the way his voice stuttered and his his body shaking.

Rat took a number of skips forward, circling around Gregor and making him curl into himself somewhat, the rat monster simply stared at him. His giggles still carried through the air and Gregor could only turn to see his party getting further away while he probably looked insane frozen at nothing.

“I’m here,” the man muttered, suddenly seeming somewhat serious though his voice still changed octaves every other syllable, “because you’re ignoring things you shouldn’t ignore, little Hartway, and your mother is getting continuously more annoying with her pestering so I’m your Spirit Guide now. Nice to meet you, my name’s Rat.”

“I-I  _ can’t  _ have a Spirit Guide. T-T-Those are for people not like me.”

Rat tutted, not allowing Gregor a moment to flinch as he was forcibly turned around and pushed in the direction of his group who were stopped by a house and looking in his direction with mild concern. 

“I’m only here to introduce myself, you’re not needing my guidance yet. Perfectly on track, yes. Aside from the suppression of your wonderful bending, your mother would like to add, she’s proud of you,” Rat whispered despite not needing to, his presence fading as they made it to what Gregor assumed was Thog’s home.

Surprisingly it didn’t seem as dilapidated as others, a testament to how careful and sane Thog was in comparison to other Alarani.

“You alright there, Gregor?” Markus asked, head tilting and mouth twisting into a frown.

He only managed a nod in return, hugging either of his arms and shifting on the balls of his feet. Thog, while looking somewhat concerned, didn’t press his obvious weirdness and instead shifted Charoth to hold him with one arm and reach into the bag Markus held to fish out keys and unlock his door.

The inside felt homely, not that Gregor really remembered what homely looked or felt like, but this… this was what he imagined it to be like. The kitchen looked a bit like a mess, crockery piled high in the sink and fire pit oven still smoking as if it had only been blown out mere moments before they entered. There was a second fire pit style thing on one wall of the house more like a fireplace, but if overlooked the low table and sets of pillows organised around it though only one, that would have a person’s back facing the fire, was fully worn down with obvious knee indentations. A door was in the kitchen, only slightly ajar but allowing Gregor to see the end of a bed, he didn’t know the state of it so couldn’t really tell how Thog slept though he knew it probably wouldn’t be as messy as if Gregor had used it.

Thog took his bag from Markus and waved both of them to the table while he slid through the kitchen and kicked the door open. Gregor watched him flick the light of the room on before moving over to the table, he kneeled down on the pillow that let him face his one exit while Markus sat to his right, leaving Thog’s usual place open for him when he entered back in, Charoth missing from his back and bag missing from his hands.

They sat there for a bit, Markus eventually snapping a set of imps into existence to play some quiet music that made Gregor’s skin crawl at the memory of Rat. The two adults didn’t ask him any questions, but Markus poked at him to sleep until Thog eventually forced him to stand and all but shoved him into the bedroom where Charoth was already burrowed in the strangely neat sheets.

The sensation of a bed was weird, he was unfamiliar with this, so-called mattress, much too used to floors and cots. He would have slept on the floor if he was actually going to sleep, but this house was much too cramp to let him do that with the safety of hiding his screams so as much as he hated it, he’d have to sleep on the ship to the Shrouded Isles. He was somewhat confused as to how that was going to work out, but maybe Thog and Markus would say something tomorrow, or maybe they would just try and keep him in the dark and leave him with Charoth when they got there.

He stared at the wall for a while. Listening the gentle music played by imps that made him think far too much about Rat who's giggling he could still hear in the back of his mind. Maybe he would fall asleep by accident and he’d get questioned in the morning, but while he thought about it he was going to stay awake. 


	7. Chapter 7

Thog awoke in the morning to a way louder house than he was used to. He’d slept out in the main room with Markus, the pair of them opposite sides of the table after they were sure Gregor had, at the very least, settled, and wasn’t worrying about whatever reason or other he came to Meadshire for. Luckily, the kid didn’t seem that antsy, so clearly his business was probably a solo venture - if not with Charoth which had been Thog’s first guess until the whole… dead mother thing came up.

Anyway, his house was much livelier than it usually was, and he didn’t know if he hated these new people more than he had yesterday or if he appreciated more noise. The fire at his back burned a little brighter than he was used to, the fire pit in the kitchen pulsed as if it were breathing and he could smell  _ something  _ cooking. He looked into the kitchen section of his house, his sink was empty, any and all dishes that had collected over the course of the last three months were missing and on either side of the counter Charoth and Gregor were sat, legs swinging, Charoth was eating something Markus had clearly cooked from the looks of things and Gregor had an apple in his hand.

He almost leapt up at the sight of them eating before simply leaning back on his hands, if they wanted to poison themselves with the Alarani grown food he had in his cupboards they could be his guest. 

“Morning, Thog,” Gregor said, waving as he wiped his hands on his trousers and took a bite of his apple. Thog could see  _ dark  _ circles under his eyes and wondered if the kid had actually slept last night or any night before this point.

“Hey…” he responded slowly, pushing himself to his feet and folding his arms, “you guys - uh - you guys used the shit on my shelves?”

Markus scoffed and laughed, shoving a warm-looking, meat filled bun into his hands, “I’m not that stupid, Thog. I know Alarani has weird food  _ even  _ when it’s imported. That’s why we are  _ not  _ stocking up on food here and I’ll just send an imp off through the plains of the spirit realm should we need food on our trip to the Shrouded Isles.”

Thog froze, about to take a bite of the bun but looking between the two kids on his counter then back at Markus, talking through gritted teeth, “Markus, a little tact.”

The other man raised an eyebrow, “I wasn’t  _ not  _ going to tell them.”

“I get it,” Charoth murmured, staring down at the mug in his hands, “your boss just doesn’t want someone the Ban are probably after hanging around where more people can get hurt. I killed one of their people - and - you kinda did too.”

Thog watched him jump off the counter and go to the fireplace with a tight grimace. Whichever Fire Nation settlement he was from clearly had a hell of a lot better education than Thog and other Alaranis did, he was a fuck ton more aware of everything than any of Thog’s friends had been at his age. But he  _ was  _ right, Karen had probably disguised getting rid of Thog as getting rid of the kids, he was as much a Ban target as Charoth was now and Karen knew that.

“Where are you from, Charoth?” Gregor asked, a hopeful quirk in his mouth, clearly trying to get the younger boy less… depressed.

“Kuravia.”

Markus perked up then, tail whipping Gregor’s leg and siting an  _ ow  _ from the boy as the blond went over to the table where Charoth now sat.

“I’m from Kuravia… well, mostly, I wasn’t born there but I did spend most of my pre-teen to teen years there for high school.” 

Charoth almost perked up, though Thog could barely stomach seeing the kid  _ that  _ broken so he turned back to Gregor in an attempt to ignore it. He couldn’t go feeling bad for this kid, it’s not like he was the only person to have ever lost their parents that young, and he certainly wasn’t the first Thog had met. He shouldn’t feel bad.

“Where are you from?” He asked the brunette next to him, finally taking a bite of the surprisingly decent meat bun.

“Renalan,” 

“The Neutral State?” He pegged the kid for an Altreian or something, but a Renalian? He’d never known any of those suckers to come down to Alaran  _ or  _ the Free Isles, except maybe one family that went over to Onhorant forever ago, let alone send their kids down here. Though Thog could see more of those people moving around to avoid the Ban but  _ everyone  _ knew the Ban were more active in the Free Isles.

Gregor nodded, “yeah, coastal place, mostly Fire Nation inhabitants, hence, you know, the colours.”

Thog nodded, trying to keep the skepticism off his face. If the kid was lying he was fucking good at it, but if he was telling the truth he could be a little less vague, though Thog imagined he wouldn’t want to be telling practical strangers his life story, which was probably why he was pretty willingly going along with the Shrouded Isles trip. Part of Thog wanted to apologise, but at the same time the kid got himself involved when he joined Thog and Charoth in the chase against the Ban members, he didn’t really want to feel bad.

**~~**

The Alarani marketplace was an oddly crowded place, of course, Thog was used to it, but it seemed Markus, at the least, was not. 

“You’d think city  _ wasn’t  _ almost totalled yesterday,” the man chuckled nervously, Gregor walking beside him while Charoth had latched onto Thog’s arm and refused to let go; Thog wondered why he wasn’t hanging off Gregor like he had been.

He shrugged at Markus, “you’ll find Alarani, or at least those in Meadshire, don’t much care for outsiders. That’s why Karen gets them out fast as possible.” He tugged Charoth out of a couple’s path, ignoring how they glared at him and ushered the group into a little bar.

The shop was his usual stop for hired work… or drinks. The cooks old man at the counter served a man a pint glass of mushrooms and waved his bony, green bell-sleeved hand in his direction which he managed to return without pinching the bridge of his nose. He managed to push Charoth back into Gregor’s arms and shoo the two of them over to the one empty table on the side of the bar farthest from the counter, Markus followed him over to Ol’ Inny.

“What are you looking for today, Thog?” The old man squeaked. Thog smirked at Markus’ grimace.

He rifled through his bag, pulling out his wallet and pulling a few gold coins out of the coin pouch to drop onto the counter, “I need you to find me a captain with a boat that’s willing to go to the Shrouded Isles, I’m leaving those two twerps at that table for the next five hours and my colleague and I will come back and get them after that time. Probably. Don’t let them run off, don’t let them drink or eat anything off your menu, and if they need us you know how to contact me.”

Inny nodded, probably the most coherent thing the man would do around anyone and Thog turned to go over to Gregor and Charoth. He almost tripped over a couple of gibbering imps with a food tray who were hobbling over to the table, Markus smiled a little sheepishly when he glared back at him.

“You two are staying here,” he stayed simply when he came to the table, groaning in annoyance and pulling a stair of earth from the stone floor to help the imps up onto the table, “Markus and I will be going through the market, you two will just grab too much attention and I cannot afford to let you get lost. Don’t talk to anyone except the old guy behind the counter, if something goes super wrong  - and I _ mean super wrong  _ \- tell him to call me, you got that? If someone tries to start a fight don’t give them the time, either kick their ass or, again, ask Ol’ Inny to call  _ me _ .”

Charoth shifted in his seat, chin pressing against the table and eyes downcast as one of his hands toyed with one of the Imps’ hands, “but what if more Ban show up?”

Markus stepped forward then, tapping the imp forward into Charoth’s arms a little more while Gregor simply watched the three of them, back against the wall and subtly (or would be if Thog didn’t recognise the movements) pushing his fingers into his eyes or squeezing his eyes shut every so often. The kid was shattered and Thog almost wanted to knock him out just to make sure he didn’t  _ pass  _ out.

“There aren’t anymore Ban left in the town, Charoth, you don’t have to worry, and you’ve got Gregor,” Markus grinned, the brunette smiling at the younger boy as well, “I think you’ll be okay. Now enjoy some food, the imps can keep you company and they’ll come find me if Ol’ Inny can’t contact Thog.”

The two boys nodded then, Thog sighed in relief and nodded at them before pushing Markus towards the door and leaving the two of them with the two imps. 

Thog shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked, weaving through the crowds pretty simply and stopping every so often as something - more than likely, no,  _ absolutely  _ fake - caught Markus’ attention. Thog knew where he was going, he knew who he trusted in this market and no matter how many ‘Magic Gem’ sellars Markus wanted to stop and embarrass, he would not not go to those people. 

The market could technically be described as oriental while at the same time relatively basic and somewhat like a farmer’s market. The main, overarching colour was the earthy green Thog would probably never escape, with golden yellow accents with flags and streamers thrown all over the place; the paths were paved with cobblestone, many displaced by numerous earthbending children and toddlers practicing their skills or trying to fuck with their friends. Merchants had different wares laid out on their front tables, though Thog knew most of their best stock was hidden in the backs of their tents for the customers who knew what they were looking for. Elephant-Rats ran between peoples feet, picking through the crumbs of toxic food strewn out between the cracks in the cobble, they were probably radioactive or completely poison at this point, but babies still reached out from their mother’s arms and bigger animals still circled and stole them from the ground they stood on. The market circled around the main lake in Meadshire (there was a second but no one really went that far out), the almost glowing water housing slightly-too-large turtleducks and holding other market stalls in the form of boats, how they got there Thog never asked but people used to say the marketplace used to just be ocean until the Emporer wanted Meadshire to have more space and the earthbenders of the town pulled up the ground beneath the water, trapping whatever boats were out there in the ring of the remaining waters. 

“Who was that guy anyway?” Markus asked as they wandered.

Thog waved his hand dismissively, “just Ol’ Inny, he’s kind of been around since I was a kid and my friend and I used to get jobs from him all the time. Now he does jobs for me.”

Markus hummed, sounding intrigued but saying nothing more on the topic as he gazed around the market as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen; Thog supposed most things in Meadshire were curiosity inducing, mostly for bad reasons but he would admit that the market was the nicest place in town. They came to the lake, a turtleduck snapping at Thog until he bought a cheap loaf of bread from the stall next to him and threw it whole at the animal; the ensuing fight between the mutant ducks wasn’t surprising.

Naomi, a girl he’d known for a few years purely because he may have accidentally hospitalised her father during an underground ring brawl that she surprisingly didn’t freeze him for. A waterbender of half Earth Kingdom descendance who’s mother used to reside on the island of Meathe; she had dark skin, darker than Gregor’s but lighter than a normal Water Tribesman with surprisingly bright eyes and braided hair. She smirked when he awkwardly clambered into her boat, the ship tilting as Markus followed after though Naomi flicked her hand and a wave came up to pull the other side of the boat down.

She was kneeled down behind her counter, two back rooms, one where her mother slept during most of the day and the other for the stock Thog needed, and a hatch on the ceiling above her so that she could throw up flags or set her sail if she ever felt like waterbending herself out into the ocean. Trinkets hung from either wall and all over the ceiling, pelts of hunted animals and maybe-fake kata scrolls organised on sets of shelves at the back of the boat. 

“Thog, how good to see you!” She greeted, voice that had once been described as ‘fruity’ (not that Thog knew what the fuck that meant), “I see you brought a friend, what can I do for you today?”

“I’m kinda getting secretly deported,” he admitted, leaving Markus to look around at whatever stock he wanted, “that ones coming with me and so are two kids and you’re the one person I trust to give me the supplies we need.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly not surprised but stand and brushing her blue dress off, “what did you do now and where are you going?” She turned to open the door to the stockroom, leaning against the doorway and squinting at Markus, “I’m not even going to  _ ask  _ about the blonde or the  _ kids _ ,” she almost sounded disgusted, she never did like children.

He batted at one of the owl-bear pelts that swung to close to his face and groaned, “I may or may not have killed one of the Ban’s earthbenders and we’re going to the Shrouded Isles.”

Naomi stuck her tongue out, mouth contorting at his words, she didn’t say anything, sliding into the back room and grabbing a plastic crate. Thog pulled his bag off, sliding it onto the countertop and opening it up; aside from the Ban spy’s note and his wallet, it was pretty much empty, perfect for all the shit they needed for the day long boat ride. 

“These are incredibly intriguing,” Markus said, voice not at a volume where Naomi could hear him but he was looking at Thog anyway, “where does she get all this stuff?”

He shrugged, turning and facing him properly, “the pelts she hunts herself, the waterbending scrolls her mother paints and the earthbending ones her father helps her mother paint, I’m pretty sure they steal half the rest of this but most of the stuff in the back is stuff she or her parents make themselves for the best paying customers.”

“Or you?”

“Or me.”

He turned back then, watching her pout at the different sized parkas, “one of the kids is a teenager and their other’s about eleven,” he stated, watching her then pinch the bridge of her nose and lean further forward across the shelf.

She all but slammed the crate onto her counter, “you know my rates.”

He nodded simply, handing her a number of his gold coins and letting her count them before giving her the two silver ones and beginning to fit the supplies into his bag, the parkas hiding in the bottom of it. He let Markus wobble off the boat first, bounding as far away from the lake as he could as Thog stepped off; typical firebender. He saw the stone pillar after maybe a second, he groaned, pointing it out to Markus when he looked at Thog curiously.

“What the hell is that?”

“That’s Ol’ Inny’s call.”

“ _ The old man’s an earthbender too _ !?”

Back in the bar wasn’t as bad as Thog expected. Things seemed relatively calm and the only thing Ol’ Inny did was point at Gregor when they walked in. There wasn’t anybody else in the bar at that moment, so Thog could only really wonder if Gregor had spooked them or they’d already left by the time Gregor did whatever he did.

“Hey,” Markus greeted the two of them, “you two okay?”

Gregor simply nodded, a smile that would have looked real to anyone but Thog pulling at his lips. Charoth looked  _ quite  _ concerned, and slid out f his seat to let Markus sit down and scuttled over to Thog, tugging on his arm and dragging him over to the counter; Thog was sure he saw Gregor’s eyebrows scrunch together (be that in worry or anger was what a Thog couldn’t decipher).

“Gregor fell asleep,” Charoth whispered, pulling himself onto one of the stools to be better height for Thog to hear him, “he fell asleep and I didn’t wanna wake him up cause I don’t think he really sleeps, and then I was thinking about stuff and he started freaking out.”

Thog sighed, “you flipped out over him having a nightmare? Everyone gets em, Charoth.”

“Y-Yeah, but I don’t think most people  _ scream _ .”

Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end section feels a little rushed and I apologise but this chapter gave me a hard ass time so cut me some slack and I’ll try and be better for next time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pacing ? She’s not my biggest fan but I’m trying to convince her to help me.

Gregor was an enigma to Markus. He was this young kid, apparently from Renalan and clearly had parents from two different Nations. He was quiet - though Markus didn’t know him very well so that could be a factor in his socialisation, or lack thereof - but when he spoke he sounded happy, or, as happy as a boy travelling by himself and apparently having nightmares could sound. Speaking of the nightmares, Thog had told him what Charoth had said, and Markus tried to prod the truth out of Gregor but he only rebuffed any concern with _its normal_. What kind of person thought nightmares that made you literally scream enough to scare _other_ people, were normal? What kind of people did Gregor grow up with? _How_ did Gregor grow up?

Markus was a man who cared, at least he considered himself to be as such, so having what happened in the last 36 hours happen with him there not being able to anything to help anyone took more of a toll on him than he’d like to admit. He’d seen a child’s dead mother, seen that child then kill someone else with one of the rarest elements a person could pull off, watched another teenager slice a dude’s leg open, swing a giant glaive around like it weighed nothing and then scare the other child with a nightmare so bad he screamed about it. Part of Markus just wanted to go home, go back to Kuravia and be a stupid firebending teacher or something, maybe take Charoth back with him to get him back to his family, but something in him, it felt like the part connected to the imps and the Spirit Realm but he couldn’t be sure, that something kept him with Thog and Gregor. 

Either way, Gregor was pretty tight lipped, Thog eventually told Markus to stop trying to get him to talk when he saw the kid starting to close off from them  _ more  _ than he already was; the two of them asked Charoth if he’d keep an eye on Gregor when they couldn’t though, Markus hoped it would serve as both a tether to Gregor’s trust and friendship as well as a distraction from any of Charoth’s darker thoughts. 

Thog had decided to bring the other two with them when they went to get the last of their supplies - mostly Thog collecting a  _ gun  _ of all things from some slimy looking nonbender and finding a guy to do a quick sharpen of Gregor’s glaive (which was handed over a little reluctantly and watched like an absolute hawk). Then they simply went back to the bar again, conversation had been somewhat silent, if there was any it was static and awkward, Gregor hiding in his corner seat and Charoth hugging one of Markus’ imps and side eying the other boy right up until their hired captain showed up that evening to take them to the docks again.

The docks brought about a whole new wave of emotions from Markus, he almost couldn’t believe just how much had happened because of the utter chaos brought about at that dock; he’d never seen so many fearfully confused people all congealed together in one place before. His thoughts had been halted at the sight of a boat.

And now they were on said boat mid afternoon the next day. Markus  had to say, he preferred boats a hell of a lot more than he did water. Maybe as a firebender he just had a natural dislike for the stuff in large doses, or maybe it was because he couldn’t really swim, but he preferred the sturdy deck of a ship to the choppy waves of the sea. The same couldn’t be said for others he supposed; Charoth had been hiding in the one bedroom the ship had all day, Thog was somewhere, Markus didn’t even want to know, and Gregor was sat on the upper deck, a leg folded under him while the other hung over the edge of the raised floor, his glaive diligently on his back like it always was. Their captain didn’t seem to care for the four of them, nor the Shrouded Isles, the Xin-Calan waterbender didn’t give any hints as to what the place would be like but made it clear he would be dropping them off on what  _ he  _ knew was the quiet side of the island and hightailing it out of there before any of the island’s inhabitants (that may or may not be there) could spot him.

He watched the waves move as if controlled by strong beats of music, he almost wanted to pull his lute from his luggage and play a little ditty but he feared the captain may throw an icicle at him or bring the waves above the railings and drown him on deck. Since they’d been sailing all night, by early morning they had drifted into colder waters, a sure sign a Water Tribe was a direct path through the cold, because of this Thog had thrown parkas at each of them when they woke up that morning and had them all change to stop any of them from getting hypothermia ( _ especially  _ if someone fell into the water). Markus thought that was the reason Thog and Charoth were hiding below deck, Thog seemed to have quite a bit of dignity and probably didn’t want the group seeing him in anything but his neutral colours for as long as he could control the situation. As for Charoth, Markus imagined he hadn’t really reached the age he had full control of his fire, considering he seemed to favour his lighting - how he mastered, or at least learned, that before finishing his study of firebending as astounding - and even Markus couldn’t completely warm himself up through breathing exercises which was why he was all but engulfed in a slightly too big parka with the hood up and mittens over his hands. Gregor only appeared slightly perturbed by the clothing but put it on without argument and hid the discomfort on his face (that Markus absolutely clocked) in his own fur hood; he suited blue, Markus mused.

“So what exactly is a tiefling?”

The question surprised him and he turned to see Gregor watching him from his spot. Markus went over, pulling at his hood slightly to show off his small horns.

“I suppose you could say I’m a  _ much _ weaker version of the world’s gods?” Honestly, he’d never had to define what he was before, and it’s not like  _ he  _ ever asked, he was just, well, him! “I think some of the original tieflings were, like, babies of the world’s gods and mortal women, oftentimes the women wouldn’t survive because of the power imbalance between their bodies and a tiefling’s. I never really… asked where I came from, I just knew I was at least slightly different from others, I could still bend like everyone else but I was just  _ slightly  _ different.”

Gregor nodded a little, “do you like who you are?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Have you ever thought about what things would be like if you didn’t like who you were? Or how your life would be if part of you wasn’t the way it is?”

What an odd question, Markus hadn’t had that thought cross his mind any other time than when he’d escaped the servant situation his father got his family into. Maybe Gregor was just self conscious about being the one mixed, nonbender in their group and he could understand that, maybe that was why Gregor was being a little strange with all of them, he probably felt isolated and mundane.

“Only once, when I was much younger than you or Charoth. I felt alone for a while and then I found someone like me but stronger and he helped me realise there was nothing wrong with who I am and everything about me made me just a little more special than the next person.”

Gregor seemed to halt, eyebrows scrunching together and chin disappearing into his parka as he tilted his head down, a nail scratching at his temple. Markus sighed quietly, reaching up to the deck and using his minimal, practically nonexistent, upper body strength to pull himself up onto the upper deck and sit beside Gregor over looking up at him.

“Are you okay, Gregor?”

He only regarded Markus for a moment before nodding mutely, neither of them getting a word out before Thog and Charoth pushed through the door to the main deck, they seemed locked in conversation though Markus could see the two of them shiver the minute they stepped outside. He would admit to snorting upon seeing Thog, covered in his Water Tribe garb and looking less than impressed about it, kind of like he was trapped in some kind of suit he wanted to burn - or more appropriately, wrap in rock and dump in the bottom of the ocean.

Thog pinched the bridge of his nose, “kid, I know you can be kind of scary, but a  _ Death God _ ? Really? A giant shrimp, sea monster thing-“

“That was me,” Charoth interjected, gloved hands hiding in the sleeves of his parka.

“-That was  _ you _ , destroyed the boat and we all died but totally didn’t die because there were bells and shit to bring us back?” Thog threw a slightly exasperated, confused look in Markus and Gregor’s direction, the two of them smiling and Gregor even chuckling a little bit.

“Yeah!” The golden-eyed boy nodded, bouncing on his spot before becoming a little more somber, “my mom came back and everything.”

_ Okay _ ! Time to move on! Markus jumped down onto the lower deck and Gregor followed, he went over to the front of the ship, spotting the icy mist that surrounded the Shrouded Isles and slowly engulfed them into it’s blinding coldness. He felt something press against his side and realised it was Charoth when a slight lick of flame escaped the boy’s mouth. The captain hollered something about getting off his boat  _ now  _ before he brought the ocean up to throw them off himself; the man was getting unnerved, Markus could feel it without actually seeing him.

Markus lit a flame in his hand, the purple light providing minimal help but allowing him to see the rest of his party and direct them to the silhouettes of the rocks either side of the boat. Aside from the water being cold, it didn’t seem violent, which was good because they were less likely to be swallowed by it. Markus managed to see enough through the dense mist to see Thog clamber onto the rock and use hi bending to make a small platform before he helped Gregor up; as he lifted Charoth up something caught his eye through the white, a set of faint green glows. Gregor practically hauled him onto the platform with one arm as their captain backed his boat out of the mist, the next thing Markus knew, he was walking beside Thog with his palm fire to help him keep their walkway going.

“What’s with the mist?” He asked, one hand pulling his hood back up while he turned to make sure the other two were following him.

Thog grunted, pulling more earth from the water, “the old leader of the Shrouded Isles was never a fan of the big ass ice walls most other Tribes had, so he had his people just make the island colder to keep this ring of mist up. I’m pretty sure it’s just natural now, but it does only go so far.”

True to his word, the mist got less dense as they went, and eventually, they found the snow covered sand of a shoreline and the clearly visible cliff sides of the mainland. Thog managed to push a good amount of earth back under the water when they touched down on the cold shore. Markus’ attention was caught once again by the soft green glows far more visible now that the mist was no longer suffocating him and his group, he waved at the others until they noticed it and followed him down through the snow and sand until they stood statue still at the sight of people.

Monochrome skinned people with green body marks, dark hair, horns, and light orange parkas designed to fit with Water Tribe weather though keep their spiritualist identities. They were Alm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we’re kind of into less prologue/set up chapters now ! Things should slow down a little bit now that we’re a few steps closer to the whole gang joining and everything truly kicking off !


	9. Chapter 9

Gregor looked at the strange people with minor intrigue, somewhat in the same way they stared at their little quartet stood on the beach with travel supplies. He kept Charoth directly in front of him, arms wrapped around his shoulders and holding onto the hand the boy grabbed him with, Markus looked a little more surprised while Thog looked about as lost as Gregor felt.

“Wow, well, this is a surprise,” Markus said, the confidence overtaking his shock, he folded his arms, “I didn’t think spiritualists like the Alm would live on what I assumed was Water Tribe terf.”

The five ‘Alm’ looked between each other, a couple towards the back of the pack shrugging with wide eyes. The lead one, an individual with little horns, and braided black hair, like the other people, his green eyes and lines along his body seemed to glow, even below the uncomfortably familiar, soft orange yet Water Tribe designed clothes. 

The male Alm bowed to them, gloved hands joined in front of his torso, “my name is Pavo, welcome, guests, to The Shrouded Isles,” his voice was soft yet slightly grating like the crunch of the fresh snow beneath their feet. “May I ask, are you here to see the King or our Queen and their council?”

Gregor and the other immediately looked at Thog who looked back at them with a minor shrug before looking back at Pavo, “uh… all of them?”

Pavo seemed surprised, eyes widening just slightly but he smiled, “oh wonderful, most are unaware of our occupation here. Allow me to lead you through the village, we may find some council members there.”

Nobody said anything but Gregor saw Thog nod. Pavo waved at his fellow 

Alm and trudged through the snow to lead the group up to a slight incline. Gregor had never been anywhere with so much snow before, he’d seen little flurries and small storms back in Renalan, but this was blankets of white, gusts of cold. He’d rather be cold, rather make use of his parka like the others, like Thog, over half sweating in it because his body decided it wanted to listen to instincts and force him to breathe in the way his parents taught him to. It was okay on the boat because it wasn’t even that cold then, but walking across sheets of ice and layers of snow while trying to match his… friends’ (?) wobbly skating over naturally keeping his floaty balance was somewhat infuriating. He just wanted to be normal, frankly there’s a part of him that would rather be dead - at least then he wouldn’t be alone.

“W-What exactly is an Alm?” Charoth stuttered out, arms wrapped around one of Thog’s who kept said arm raised to try and keep both of their balances.

Pavo chuckled, gliding along the path, “we could be considered a somewhat… sister species to people like you Tiefling friend here.”

“Markus Velafi, good to meet you.”

“Pleasure. The Alm are ordinarily cave dwelling creatures, there are many misconceptions as to our nature with bending; as you can imagine, many expect us to be natural born earthbenders like Tieflings are firebenders, but the Alm have no capacity to be able to bend. We’re spiritualists, a species born with a natural connection to the Spirit Realm often found in naturally powerful airbenders.”

Gregor attempted not to grimace, latching onto Markus’ arm as he feigned a slip on the ice; the Tiefling didn’t make him let go, even offering a smile, so he didn’t. 

They slid along the path a little further, stumbling onto snowier, more solid plains, as they came upon a village at the apex of the incline. The buildings were an odd mix of wooden shacks, small, awkward igloos made of rock and actual igloos left behind from whatever waterbenders used to reside on the islands; the path turned to snow covered stone, and down the main street of the village a number of Alm and interestingly people-like and not-so-people-like creatures; Gregor unnervingly saw the echoes of blue following each of the non Alm’s movements.

“So - uh - do you…  _ have _ … any airbenders here?” Thog asked a little carefully and looking around the village, Markus’ tail flicking and hitting the back of Gregor’s knees and  _ actually  _ making him stumble forward.

Pavo shook his head, somewhat solemnly, “unfortunately we were never able to pull any into our ranks when we came above ground. Most were killed by the Ban… or some rumoured others… before we surfaced.”

“Oh… well, nonetheless, you have a marvellous array if individuals here,” Markus said, curiously watching the blue echo people.

A female Alm bounds up to them then, horns a little longer than Pavo’s but markings tracing similar paths down her grey skin and still highlighting through her orange parka. “They’re Spiritfolk!”

Charoth yelped, a spark of lightning shocking Thog’s arm and making him grunt, his face twisting in pain though he managed to hold in a shout Gregor half expected him to let out.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!” The female Alm apologised quickly, “I’m Pyxia, I see you met my brother, sorry for scaring you we just don’t get guests very often.”

“W-Why are there so many Spiritfolk around?” Gregor managed to ask, biting the inside of his cheek and sucking in a breath as a familiar giggling echoes in his ears.

Pavo places a hand to Pyxia’s shoulder, settling her slight bounce and looking at their group, their polar opposite personalities we rather jarring.

“With any Spiritualist, they tend to exert a specific amount of energy that breaks down the already rather thin wall between our current world and the Spirit Realm,” Pavo explained, Gregor wanted to cover his ears, he didn’t want to learn  _ any  _ of this, but he had a sinking feeling Rat of all spirits would make him learn about it eventually, “ordinarily a singular Spiritualist, spiritually-inclined Airbender, or even the Avatar can only break down the wall so far that the individual themselves is the only one privy to the spirit or multiple spirits around them. With such a large population of us Alm on this island, we break down the wall so far that spirits and ordinary individuals such as the King and yourselves are able to coexist and live amongst each other as if the spirits were from our realm; they have a more physical form - a similar occurrence happens should the Avatar be in the presence of one or two other spiritually-inclined individuals, though this only makes other spirits visible over being physically present.”

As if proving a point, one of the Alm in the distance exchanged a number of silver coins with a cat-like Spiritfolk for a pie of some kind. Pyxia noticed their gase, perking up beyond what Pavo could contain and waving excitedly in the cat-person’s direction.

“Dont! Look! People!”

The Spiritfolk - Dont - pounced over, circling around the four of them with twitching ears, a sniffling nose, and a tail that locked with Markus’ for a split second. She grinned, fangs pointing between her lips and she swung an arm over Pyxia’s shoulder.

“Lovely to meet you new folks, my name is Dont” Dont greeted, “you needing the rest of the council?”

The group introduced themselves before Thog piped up incredulously, “ _ you’re _ part of the council?” 

Dont squinted, a little growl pulling from her throat, “I’m one of the King’s council members specifically, yes. There’s six of us, Orien is already up at the castle, so is Lyra, I’m not quite sure where the last of your Queen’s people are but Xandal should know where Kyl’il is and obviously you’re brother’s already here.  _ Also  _ a new spirit showed up, some guy with a mask and a bunch of little, yelling,  _ super toned  _ rat creatures, says he wants to see the Royals too so he’s waiting by the bridge to Tesir.”

Oh  _ no _ . Rat had been following him around and now other things could see him?! None of this was as bad when it was just Gregor, his ‘Spirit Guide’ (as much as he despised that term) was far easier to ignore when nobody else knew he was there, when nobody knew he existed and just thought Gregor’s was an awkward teenager missing his also nonexistent family. And  _ now  _ Rat was going to follow them all the way to this King and Queen Thog decided they wanted to see, Gregor knew he was supposed to be his Spirit Guide or whatever but couldn’t he just be left alone?

“Gregor,” Charoth called, apparently the whole group had wandered forward while he was trapped in his thoughts, “you okay?”

Gregor forced a smile, so much so it felt natural at this point, and jogged over to rejoin all of them, “yeah, sorry, I’ve never seen a Water Tribe before I got a little distracted.”

Markus slung his arm over Gregor’s shoulders, “understandable, they are rather magnificent.”

He smiled tightly again, walking along with Markus as Dont and Pyxia conversed loudly, and Pavo greeted other Alm and Spiritfolk that watched their group walk through town curiously. Luckily with no more ice, nobody was sliding along and Gregor was able to walk normally without having to force a lack of balance which was uncomfortable in itself; they made it through the village without any mishaps or interruptions, but Gregor wanted to melt like the ice around them at the sight of Rat just grinning at their group with his muscled little rat creatures crowded around his feet.

“Why, it’s lovely to meet you,” Rat chuckles, offering an almost satirical bow, “you may call me Rat and please know that I am  _ incredibly  _ cursed.”

“Oh you’re the best kind of spirit,” Markus and Dont said simultaneously, laughing at each other as Rat giggled along with them.

“Well,” Pyxia clapped her hands, “I have to go see Cal for Mayoral shit, you guys have fun on Tesir, say hi to Kyl’il for me and - uh - don’t die on the path to castle.” She turned skipping down the path away from the bridge back to town, “good luck!”

“Did she just say die?” Charoth squeaked, looking up between Dont and Thog.

Thog pinched the bridge of his nose, “gonna be honest, pretty sure she did, kid. But - uh - I’ll throw a fuckin boulder at anything that tries to get you… or whatever.”

“ _ Ignoring  _ my dumbass friend,” Dont interrupted, “this island,” she gestured to the land coming into view on the other side of the bridge they’d begun walking across, “is Tesir, we should find Xandal hanging out in the King’s lab, Kyl’il might be home but - eh - Xandal usually knows where she is naturally so it’s better just to ask him.”

They entered onto Tesir through an ice arch, nothing was there to greet them except snow covered trees and more icy sculptures; they ranged from simple tree-shaped carvings to elaborate sculptures of creatures Gregor had seen all over the place.

“Is Xandal a Spiritfolk?” Charoth asked, eyebrow raising at the decorative pieces scattered across the fields and smaller ones dotted along the route Pavo was leading them down quietly.

Dont wavered her hand in front of her in an unsure motion, “not really? He’s always kind of been here even before the Alm came and let us wander around freely. He’s one of the King’s closest friends - not a council member he hates half of us - and he survived what happened here because of what he is… but not even he or the King are really sure what he is aside from possibly a water dwelling creature descended from a similar vein of natural benders or Spiritualists like the Alm or Tieflings.”

Pavo half smiled, “my sister tends to just call him Fish-boy, which is why I think he rather dislikes me. Though I will compliment him on his sculptures, they are rather magnificent.”

Markus made a noise of interest, a hand moving to run along one of his horns; Gregor thought he looked tempted to poke at Pavo and Dont’s respective appendages but had enough self control to stop himself from doing so. 

They came upon a wooden house next to a large well soon enough, Pavo pulling a golden coin from his sleeve and handing it to a gleeful Dont who bounced at whatever opportunity she’d just been presented with. Thog, holding Charoth via the boy wrapped around one of his arm again, sighed, swinging his free hand around and curling his fingers upwards to create a stone platform that gave Charoth something to sit on while letting Thog lean on it, resting his - still stolen - arm against it. Gregor leaned back against the stone, mouth twisting slightly as Rat grinned at him but turning so that he was watching Dont scurry up to the well and look down, a mischievous smirk baring a single fang. The next thing they all knew, she’d rocketed the coin down the well with one, strong, over-arm launch, and a violent  _ ow  _ echoed out of the stone.

“Dont, you  _ little _ -“ a creature came up, boosted by an impressive water spiral, he was a strange blue-grey colour with stripes a darker shade of just that; he donned clothes no one would normally wear in such a cold environment, though the two piece seemed good for whatever swimming this creature did, Xandal they could all assume, “you are  _ so  _ lucky you’re one of Ki-“ he turned as Dont made a slashing motion across her neck, “iiiing’s friend. You’re  _ so  _ lucky you’re one the King’s friends.”

Gregor stared at the creature for a few moments, fingers twitching against the blade of his glaive as a gust of cold wind blew through the group. Xandal took a moment to introduce himself, climbing out of the well, and only allowed their side a couple seconds to state their own names, he was rather quick and kept looking between Dont and Pavo who were exchanging looks Gregor hoped he wasn’t the only one seeing.

“You’re looking for Kyl’il?” He asked after apparently being satisfied with whatever the three Shrouded Isle dwellers were communicating to each other. 

He waved his hand for them to follow and went over to the wooden cabin, Thog helping Charoth down from the platform and making sure Gregor had his balance before pushing the earth back under the snow. Xandal pushed open the door to the cabin and went over to a strange, mechanical wall of buttons and all sorts of other things Gregor had never seen before, he and the others lingered in the doorway, watching him flit around the panels clicking all sorts and mumbling some sort of sequence to himself before the fireplace tumbled to life and a spark flew up through the chimney, bursting in the sky. Xandal pushes past them to get outside, he waited by his well for a moment before he pulled his hands upwards and to water surged to follow, something being dumped in his other open palm.

“What the hell was that?!” Markus choked, snapping his fingers and trying to create a spark like the one that had been in the fireplace.

“That was just a… Firework,” the name of the spark-explosion sounded forced, like Xandal knew it by some other name he wasn’t supposed to say, “it’s something the King managed to make rather good use of, Kyl’il is aware of visitors and as such sent this, it seems she is awaiting at the castle so you will have to trust Pavo and Dont here to be your guides through the Prison of Lights.” He opened his palm, a couple of small translucent  orbs sitting as if they were the most powerful creations ever made, “these lanterns are infused with a small amount of spiritual energy provided by Kyl’il though these vessels were curated by the King via some ancient texts. The infusion of spiritual energy means they will only react should an individual with a strong connection to the Spirit Realm hold them. Pavo should be your leader as his energy is rather strong,” to prove it Xandal placed the orb in the Alm’s hand and almost immediately it lit up like a bonfire, spiritual blue light casting itself across the planes before Pavo pocketed it, “however, with Dont and… Rat, I believe this man is called? With them being such Spirits themselves, they may also guide you, however Dont should be in dire circumstances and this stranger here even more dire.” Dont took the other orb and it flashed to life with as much light as an ordinary reflection would give off, before she pocketed that too.

“Kinir is our next destination,” Pavo announced, “the Prison of Lights is the bridge between that and Talthir where the palace resides. I shall provide more information as we make it there, thank you, Xandal.

Pavo and Dont bowed to the waterbender and took off down the path towards what Gregor could only assume would be the next bridge. The others began to follow, Rat and his currently singular brute of a companion rat followed behind Thog and Charoth somewhat slowly, Gregor noticed, he seemed to be watching Gregor have a minor stare down with Xandal. 

He didn’t like this situation at all, there were too many shared looks, too many obvious and not so obvious gestures that kept cutting off vital heads of information Gregor really needed right now to truly understand what was happening. This _Prison of Lights_ was apparently a death trap if Pyxia’s big mouth had anything to say about it, the only two people allowed to carry the lights were two Isle dwellers and if any of the group lost them they’d be stuck in the death prison probably in the dark if they were provided lamps. Xandal bared shark teeth at Gregor for a second, probably expecting to scare him off like the scrawny kid he seemed like, but instinct or whatever got the best of him and he growled back, sucking in air through his nose and sidling around, blowing out a small amount of hair in Xandal’s direction when he was closer to Rat; the air, puffed out with a hell of a lot more power than it seemed, pushed the creature off balance enough that he almost fell into his well. Gregor probably would have been more satisfied at the shocked look on the bender’s face, or even Rat’s almost-proud grin if he didn’t want to throw himself in the freezing ocean because - _fuck_ - he just basically straight-up airbended in front of one whole stranger and a guy he spent his whole last encounter with trying to convince he wasn’t _that_.

He couldn’t even focus enough to wave the muscles rat way from walking too close, so it ended up walking between Gregor and Rat who had come to his side after he’d panic marched away from Xandal. They were a few paces behind the rest of the group, but Gregor could hyper-watch them way better like this since he could see everyone.

“You’re on the right path,” Rat murmured to him, resting a hand on his shoulder that he didn’t bother shaking off, “You’re doing fine, I’m only here because there was a chance you were going to run off completely after  _ that  _ encounter, but - nyehehe - you just have him a little spook. Also, this is Harvey, he likes you.”

That would have almost been reassuring if it didn’t come from a guy a good part of him wanted to avoid completely. Rat was weird, that was obvious, not just anyone became Spirit Guides and half the time the guides usually weren’t human anyway, he’ll his mother’s guide had been- no,  _ no _ , he was not going there, he was not thinking about that,  _ not  _ after that had just happened. He shook his head, finally pushing Rat’s arm off him and ignoring ‘Harvey’s’ almost sad honk as he stalked back towards the main group.

“You’re real clingy, ain’t ya, kid,” Thog mused almost chuckling at Charoth still latched around his arm.

The boy was quiet in his reply, Gregor probably wouldn’t have heard it had the wind not carried it his way, “yeah, well, the one time I let go of my mom she ended up dead.”

He watched Thog tense but pull the golden-eyed kid closer. Gregor wondered if Charoth had been somewhat avoiding him because part of his mother’s death was, to Charoth, Gregor’s fault. If Gregor had been normal, less paranoid, or earnest, or whatever word someone wanted to use to describe his attachment to keeping a big weapon like his glaive on him, if he’d been less  _ that _ , then Charoth would never have been curious enough to come and talk to him, to separate from his mother for a few minutes that turned into a few hours that was now his entire life. Charoth’s mother may have ended up in a different cell and therefore alive, Charoth may have been dead now too, or Gregor could’ve died - that would have been the only okay outcome from what happened. Gregor didn’t matter to anyone, he wasn’t important, he wasn’t anyone’s son anymore, he wasn’t a brother, a nephew, he wasn’t even really a friend to anyone anymore, he was hardly a babysitter or someone with an important role to play; his death wouldn’t and still would never affect anyone in any serious way other than brief shock. No one would remember him.

Rejoining the group he felt Dont’s eyes on him before he even started staring back at her, he turned for a second to see where Rat was (he was greeting Harvey back from clearly doing  _ something  _ to Xandal - he kind of hoped it was threatening him to keep his mouth shut about the wind) and when he turned back she wasn’t staring at him anymore but her ears still twitched. 

Kinir wasn’t much different from the other islands other than being able to see more stone than snow which was almost a miracle. The atmosphere of the island dropped as soon as they crossed the border onto it though, that may have just been Gregor, but this island felt sad. Ishir had the liveliness of housing most of the Alm and Spiritfolk population, Tesir had the magnificence of Xandal’s ice sculptures as well as probably some animals if he actually ate. 

But Kinir appeared desolate, the snow wasn’t like a fresh blanket and was more of a layer suppressing memories, there were mounds of usually unmeltable ice used on the homes of waterbenders scattered all over the place, left there to be eternal unlike whatever population resides before; there were slabs of building foundations, possibly from occupants that weren’t Water Tribe though it seemed unlikely. Gregor could almost hear, almost see the echoes of a society that may have been thriving not so long ago, the cobblestone paths held the laughs of children in their cracks and the ice trapped reflections of smiling elders. The rocks lodged in the side of hills told the story of what happened, stone boulders, cubes and blade thin shards stuck from so many parts of this town; the Ban got to the people who lived here before, just like how they got to his town and how they could have taken Meadshire down like this, how they still could take Meadshire or the entirety of Alaran down like this. If even the small number of Ban Gregor had seen as infiltration groups could do this to a place who’s spirits echoed liveliness, who knew what they could do to even bigger places.

“This is the Prison of Lights,” Dont said solemnly, standing before a large, stone structure. Her eyes avoided the town and Gregor wondered if she’d seen what had happened as a Spiritfolk before she had been granted a physical form by the Ban.

Pavo exhaled, “inside there is a creature trapped for centuries and mind warped by isolation. There are monsters inside, they all serve and do the bidding of him and anything you see that isn’t one of us must be killed on sight. The creature is adverse to light, which is why it’s imperative that you stay exceptionally close to me while we’re inside; Dont can only do so much. Do you understand.”

Gregor found himself nodding.

**Author's Note:**

> Could Markus’ section have been better? Probably. I apologise lmao.


End file.
